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“He didn’t go crazy.” At least not in the sense that he was talking about. “That big wig, Ray Mallory, tried to rape me. Noah stopped him before he got that far.”
“He did what?” he said, standing up slowly.
“I’m not sure which ‘he’ you are referring to,” I said.
“You were almost assaulted last night in Chicago, and now you’re here for Noah? Did you even go to the hospital, Amelia?” He reached for me, but I took a step back.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Noah is the one in jail.”
His hand balled into a fist, dropping before it reached me. “If it was self-defense, he’ll get out—”
“If?” I snapped, my eyes narrowing at him. “In all the years you have known me, Sheldon, with all the creeps, stalkers, and perverts I’ve met, have I ever cried wolf when there wasn’t a wolf?”
“Shit, no. I didn’t mean that way,” he backpedaled.
I could feel the headache coming backing. Reaching up, I pressed on my temple.
“Why don’t you sit down—”
“Sheldon,” I cut him off, standing tall again. “I came here because you are the only person I know who can help me with this, as quickly as possible. Apparently Chicago is as corrupt as the movies make it seem. Noah isn’t being treated fairly, because the man he went up against is a Mallory. I always thought Ray was just a former rock star, but what I didn’t know is that he comes from old money. Most of his family are either judges, politicians, or CEOs that make up the Chicago elite. There is a wall around this son of a bitch. He assaulted me, and then had the balls to call me this morning, explaining how I’m out of my league for trying to go up against him. He may be right. But I’m not going to stop trying. I know there is bad blood between you and Noah. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way that you loved me, but hope I’m still someone important enough for you to help.”
Reaching up, I wiped away my tears quickly.
“What do you need?” he whispered.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath.
He nodded, getting up and grabbing his laptop from the coffee table. “I’m guessing you need me to hack into something, but that’s pretty much all I can do.”
“Yes. Everyone has dirt, Ray included. If you can dig it up, I could use it as leverage.”
“Someone like him most likely has a person covering up for him.”
I had thought so, too. But as I said, “Whoever he has is no match for you.”
Noah
Revenge.
It was the plot device for the best works in all of literature. In Shakespeare’s work, he displays the wickedness of revenge, how it blinds the bearer and causes greater misfortune for those seeking it, in the end. Just like in The Merchant of Venice, Hamlet, Richard II, King Lear…the list goes on.
I often wondered what would become of us all if we never sought vengeance? Wouldn’t we all just become victims, cursing our own lives till we died? I couldn’t live that life. There was rage growing within me for every injustice.
Just like this one.
“Lunchtime, Mr. Sloan,” the guard said as he slipped me a tray of what had to be dog food with a cup of Jell-O and a water bottle on the side. He pushed it through the slot so hard that it crashed to the floor in a disgusting mess. “Sorry about that. We ain’t the Four Seasons, so you’ll have to wait until we can whip up something else.”
“Thanks,” I said, picking up the water bottle as it rolled to me. “I appreciate it.”
The guard snickered, his chest puffed up as he walked away, muttering something to the effect of how he almost pitied a poor fuck like me.
I wanted to tell him to keep his pity. Sitting up, I drank slowly, the only words coming to my mind being, “Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, and makes it fearful and degenerate; Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.”
The people Amelia and I were turning into…it was their fault, and there was no undoing it.
Chapter Six
Amelia
